


if i could turn back time

by fortyfive_rpm (2davidbeckham3)



Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: 1980s, M/M, Rated for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2davidbeckham3/pseuds/fortyfive_rpm
Summary: A night in Barbados.
Relationships: Mick Jagger/Keith Richards (implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	if i could turn back time

**Author's Note:**

> alternative summary: a fight in barbados  
> 
> 
> Title from Cher's 1989 hit "If I Could Turn Back Time." I wanted to title it "Life after Love," but that song came out almost a full decade later, so I picked one that's more temporally relevant.

There are a lot of things Keith's done for the sake of The Rolling Stones. He never thought voluntarily going to a discotheque would be one of them.

"You look thirsty."

Keith doesn't manage to stop his reflexive eye-roll at the tired phrase. "Does that line ever even work?" He drags his attention away from the rippling waves beneath him to the newcomer to his side. He trails his eyes over the man's linen ensemble, oddly bright in the moonlight, stopping at the sight of dark chestnut hair curling at the man's neck. 

It makes Keith's all too-aware of his own, graying, curling locks. He's closer to sixty than he is to the ridiculous Dippity-do of the sixties, at this point in his life. It's a depressing thought, though he doesn't have much time to ruminate before the man speaks again. 

"It wasn't a line," he responds, annoyance carrying over the faint sound of music spilling onto the balcony. "Just stating a fact." He nods at the drink in Keith's hand. 

Keith glances down to the ice melting in his glass. "A very astute observation." 

The man ignores Keith's snide comment to offer the drink in his hand instead. "Thought you could use this." 

There's an orange peel floating in the cup. Keith prefers his whiskey neat or with Coke, instead of an Old-Fashioned, but he knows better than to be picky when it comes to free drinks. In lieu of an immediate response, Keith swirls the glass in his hand before tossing his head back to lap up the remaining liquid in a long pull. His lips curl back into a grimace at the taste.The weight of his companion's azure gaze burns stronger than the watered-down alcohol that slides down his throat. 

"Thanks," Keith mutters once he's done drinking, setting his empty glass on the balustrade before grabbing the drink offered to him. 

"You're welcome." His companion is quick to break his gaze, turning to the view stretching out in front of them. 

The silence that falls between them is filled by the faint sounds of crashing waves, the chatter of clubgoers, and the inorganic beats of the latest popular dance music.

"I thought you said you were gonna take me dancing." 

The statement falls on the wrong side of questioning. "What do you think this is?" Keith snorts, echoing Mick's earlier annoyance, managing to hold back his more unsightly comments with _take out,_ _bitch,_ and _dog_ in them, if only to keep things cordial in public. 

The look on Mick's face makes it seem like he's read Keith's mind loud and clear. They've known each other for too long. "Well, I thought you'd prefer something else apart from being my chauffeur." It's a pitiful attempt at being charitable. 

The scene's right for Keith to continue where Charlie left off all those years ago, except, this time, he's not sure he'd have the generosity to prevent Mick from flying off the railing into the Carribean below.

" _Well_ ," Keith sneers, narrowing his eyes at Mick's deepening scowl. "As your guitarist, I can do whatever the fuck I want."

Mick flinches like he's been hit. 

Keith takes a shaky swig of his Old-Fashioned to offset the heat creeping up his neck. The statement rings through Keith's ears like a gunshot. They're not each other's anything anymore.

Mick raises his hand to rub at his forehead, eyes screwed shut. "One dance." He bites out before opening his eyes. Mick holds out his hand, palm sideways like he's waiting for a shake to complete a business transaction.

The distant gesture does nothing to mollify Keith's simmering temper, though his rising hackles are tamped down when Mick continues speaking. "I can't believe I'm asking you this." He says mostly to himself before sticking his hand out farther. "Please."

Keith's wants to tell Mick to fuck off for his damn passive-agressive aside to remind him that the olive branches have been extended and accepted in return. He wouldn't be _here_ if they hadn't been. Neither of them would. 

Keith looks down at Mick's extended hand, now noticing his trembling fingertips. Trust can't be built with sticks. 

Keith takes Mick's hand in his. 

"Just one."

**Author's Note:**

> (Yes, this started as some established relationship flirting & turned into this.)  
>    
> \- Inspired by this excerpt from [this](https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/the-rolling-stones-mick-jagger-and-keith-richards-uneasy-truce-191973/amp/) _Rolling Stone_ article: _“I did have to take Mick to a few discos – which are not my favorite places in the world – because Mick likes to go out and dance at night. So I did that. That was my sacrifice. I humored him. And that’s when I knew we could work together.”_
> 
> \- I really hope I got the awkward post-break-up vibes in this one & how they somehow manage to always say the wrong thing: how are you supposed to pick up the pieces of a shattered friendship without cutting yourself in the process?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


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